


snowed in

by SOMNlARl



Series: Tumblr Prompts [18]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Established Relationship, Frottage, Grinding, M/M, Morning Sex, Slash, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Sex, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 14:27:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4880338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SOMNlARl/pseuds/SOMNlARl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Dorian shivers and pulls the stack of thick furs and blankets higher over both of them, moving slowly to press in closer to Cullen’s chest so not to wake him, the crook of a knee teasing farther and higher between Cullen’s thighs. Cullen’s breath hitches in the back of his throat and he tightens the arm that had been loosely wrapped around Dorian’s chest, waking up just enough to grin sleepily at Dorian and accept a kiss brushed across his forehead before dozing off again with a soft snore. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	snowed in

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an anon prompt on tumblr: _grinding up against the other_. 
> 
> Come yell about Cullrian with me, I'm [xhermionedanger](http://xhermionedanger.tumblr.com).

Dorian shivers and pulls the stack of thick furs and blankets higher over both of them, moving slowly to press in closer to Cullen’s chest so not to wake him, the crook of a knee teasing farther and higher between Cullen’s thighs. Cullen’s breath hitches in the back of his throat and he tightens the arm that had been loosely wrapped around Dorian’s chest, waking up just enough to grin sleepily at Dorian and accept a kiss brushed across his forehead before dozing off again with a soft snore. 

The snow had been falling for days now and the daily business of Skyhold had ground completely to a halt. The courtyard was buried waist-high in the stuff and everyone had been gently encouraged - by Josephine so it was clearly an order, not a suggestion - not to leave their quarters unless absolutely necessary. Cullen had grumbled at first - determined to fulfill his daily duties - but after his first foray out to the kitchens to bring back breakfast had left him red-cheeked, lungs still aching from the cold hours later he’d acquiesced to taking a snow day or two.  _Only until the snow was cleared_ he’d insisted. After that he couldn’t leave his recruits any longer, at the very least they needed their daily drills if the weather continued to thwart any serious training. He wouldn’t have them unprepared for their enemies, no matter the weather. 

Of course, clearing the snow proved rather difficult with all of Skyhold’s runners and laborers trapped in their quarters as well and so it built up at the edge of each door of Cullen’s office until just making the short walk to the Herald’s Rest for some of Cabot’s dreadful cooking turned into an hour-long ordeal. 

Secretly Dorian thought these few days of forced rest and relaxation were the best thing to happen to Cullen in years. He’d been gently trying to encourage the man to take regular breaks - even a few days here and there - to no avail for months now, watching as the dark circles under his eyes had spread and the shaking of his hands had grown from a barely-noticeable quiver to a tremor that kept him from writing. But these last few days, with no choice but to relax, he’d seemed to recover, the pained furrows between his eyes and across his brow softening with each day until they were barely visible. Each morning they’d slept late, limbs tangled like hothouse vines climbing a trellis, greeting the pale pinks and oranges of dawn with sleepy sighs and smiles before drifting back asleep with nothing to stop them. 

Dorian smiles as Cullen shifts in his arms, watches the gentle rise and fall of Cullen’s chest as he lightly trails his fingertips down the man’s smooth skin, only pausing to tease through the soft swirl of golden hair between his hipbones. Cullen whines softly in his sleep, back arching to press against Dorian’s hand. 

The fire’s burning low, crackling in the corner of the loft that had been set aside for a few abandoned stones from the fortifications to shield the weathered, wooden walls. With a flick of his wrist the embers jumped and swelled and Dorian chuckles softly as he watches the shadow of the flames dance against the floorboards. No need for either of them to venture out now, not even for firewood. 

He yawns, stifling the warm exhalation into Cullen’s shoulder then leans in to nip softly at the man’s ear, just where a snowflake had fallen and melted a moment earlier. 

“Mmmm,” Cullen mumbles, rubbing his eyes with his fists, the movement forcing the sheets down to reveal his chest. “What time is it?

His voice is rough, pitched an octave lower than normal and thick with sleep and Dorian thinks he’s never heard a more beautiful sound in his life. He takes Cullen’s hand softly, entangling his fingers through the man’s and lowers them to rest on his chest just at the base of his heart. 

“Early, probably. Difficult to tell with all this blasted snow,” Dorian whispers, shifting back just enough to gaze at Cullen and  _Maker_ but is he glad for it. Cullen, in this light, is stunning. The early morning light off the Frostbacks plays off his sleep-mussed curls, illuminates the angles of his jaw and torso and caresses the curves of his lips. So too does it remind Dorian that not only is the man handsome he is a warrior, the light highlighting every scar on his body, the ones he’s traced a thousand times before as Cullen lay asleep, the ropey sinews of muscle that curve around every angle of him. “Do you want to go back to sleep?”

Cullen grins as he moves closer, grinding into Dorian’s knee with a soft moan as he chokes, “ _Maker_ , no.”

Dorian shudders as he presses into Cullen’s hip, his own twitching unintentionally as he rubs against Cullen, the man’s fingers lightly squeezing into the soft skin above his ass. 

“ _Kaffas_ , Cullen,” he hisses, fingernails gripping at Cullen’s back and pulling them closer until they’re skin to skin, bare chest to bare chest, groins lined up perfectly. He can feel the quickening of Cullen’s breath on his skin as he thrusts, each heartbeat stuttering high and fast against his own. It’s still so foreign to him, this easy intimacy and in his weaker moments he still wants to pull away, make the walk across Skyhold back to his quarters which are safe and secluded, Maker damn the snow. But then Cullen looks up to him, catches his eye with a smile and his jaw with a hand and pulls him in for a soft, slow kiss and Dorian can’t imagine a place in the world he’d rather be. 

“Doesn’t sound like you do either, my heart,” Cullen whispers with a smirk and a blush that spreads rapidly across his cheeks as he rolls his hips and pulls Dorian on top of him, laughing as Dorian curses at the shock of pleasure it sends through him. 

“ _Amatus_ , I swear if you stop right now I will set you on fire,” Dorian growls, whining softly as he shifts, digging his hands into Cullen’s shoulderblades until the man grunts and bites hard at the hollow of his neck. 

Dorian quickens each roll of his hips but somehow keeps each still long, long enough to build the friction between them until Cullen’s gasping and swearing beneath him, panting as he kisses him, tongue slipping into Dorian’s mouth and sweeping softly against his own until they’re breathless. 

Each thrust builds the heat between them, thighs quivering as each tries to match the other’s pace. 

“ _Please,”_ Dorian moans into Cullen’s mouth as the pressure builds deep within him, his core tensing. “ _Maker, Amatus, please_.” 

Cullen offers one single, soft kiss in agreement and presses hard against him, Cullen sighs and groans beneath him with every quickening stiff thrust, his fingernails digging into Dorian’s back, raking against his skin. 

Dorian kisses him again, harder this time, grabbing at his waist as Cullen rolls his hips again and again until finally he comes with an intensity that surprises him, babbling a stream of nonsense in Tevene mixed with a single, short prayer repeated into the early morning silence.  _Cullen. Amatus. Please._

Cullen slows the roll of his hips, his head thrown back on the pillows, pupils blown wide in the moonlight and Dorian thinks he’s never looked more beautiful. A few more quick thrusts and his release follows, swallowing his cries into Dorian’s shoulder as he comes, panting heavily, a lazy grin teasing at his lips as Dorian collapses onto his chest. 

“Good morning?” Cullen whispers as a fresh wind screams off the mountains and through the holes in the roof. 

Dorian hums contentedly, already feeling himself drifting back to sleep. “Lovely, Amatus. Pity there aren’t more blizzards at Skyhold.”

Cullen laughs sleepily, his lips pressing softly into the hollow of Dorian’s neck between sharp collarbones as he presses a line of soft kisses down his chest. Dorian watches as fat, fluffy snowflakes drift lazily through the missing slats in the roof, the light dancing off of them dappling his lover’s skin. 

He wishes that the storm could last forever as he watches the sunrise shift from pale pastels to blinding morning light mirroring off the snowdrifts that surround them, feeling the slow, steady hum of Cullen’s breath as he sleeps peacefully, finally free. 


End file.
